


The Most Dangerous Game

by pristineungift



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Angst, Dark, Drama, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-14
Updated: 2012-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pristineungift/pseuds/pristineungift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "Darken/Salindra/Walter, Darken instructs Walter in the finer points of impersonating the Lord Rahl. “You still don’t understand,” Darken Rahl said, and Salindra wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to Walter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks go to evilgmbethy for betaing and gently holding my hand through my first explicit man!sex experience. To for madmguillotine for loving Salindra and making the cover art. And to manders and nyx and for cheering me on.

  


_The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure._  
-General Zaroff, _The Most Dangerous Game_  
  
Salindra waited, her heart in her throat. She sat in a well-appointed tower, afloat in a sea of red opulence. Crushed velvet, rich brocade, sleek silk… The Great Crest of D'Hara was inky black across the cover on the bed that dominated the room.  
  
The master of the brothel that owned her contract had said discretion was required. Salindra had not known how much discretion until she was blindfolded and brought by carriage to a temple of the Mord'Sith. For a moment she had feared, thought perhaps she was for them, or to become one of them. They were brutal mistresses. The whores, men and women alike, that were called on by Mord'Sith often returned shattered in some way or another.  
  
Salindra would not be shattered by the world. It pressed and pulled at her, but she would never break. She was a survivor, a shard of stone determined to emerge from the earth as a diamond.  
  
The Mord'Sith did not suffer those who would not break.  
  
But then word had come, in the form of a dark-haired Mord'Sith with a sour expression that would give her premature wrinkles, telling Salindra curtly that she was to wait for Lord Rahl.  
  
Lord Rahl.  
  
Salindra's heart pounded.  
  
It was fear, yes. She wasn't stupid. She knew the rumors of women with cut wrists, soldiers never seen again... But it was also exhilaration. If Lord Rahl was pleased with her, he might give her gifts, buy her contract with the Night House, or, so unlikely she scarcely dared think it, take her back to the palace, to live as one of his concubines.  
  
And if she could give him a child, even a bastard girl... To have a bastard child of the House of Rahl would guarantee her a place in the palace, caring for the brat and keeping it out if its father's way.  
  
Her lips twisted wryly as she tossed her head, one perfectly coiled strand of blond hair bouncing against her cheek. _Not exactly a fairytale, but then I've always been a practical girl..._  
  
The bedchamber door opened, and Salindra immediately stood, subtly standing on the back of her skirt to pull her dress tighter across her breasts. It was a trick that had worked for her many times.  
  
When the man entering the room saw her, he stumbled. Was this really Lord Rahl? The Terror of the Midlands?  
  
"You see, Walter," a voice sneered from the hall outside the chamber, sensually drawing out the end of the other man's name. "You fool no one with your bumbling ineptitude. Stand aside."  
  
The first man flushed beet red, which clashed horribly with his Rahl red robes, and quickly scurried into the room, seemingly looking for a place to hide. Then a second man entered, and Salindra stood a little straighter, imperceptibly thrusting her chest out and cocking one hip to the side.  
  
Now _this_ was Lord Rahl. He did not walk so much as prowl, his power and charm rolling before him like an invisible tidal wave. It made Salindra's breath catch, her nipples tighten. This man was a king, rich, powerful, her hope for a better life.  
  
Salindra looked at Darken Rahl and saw freedom.  
  
"My lord," she purred, lowering her gaze and curtsying to him. His hand appeared before her face, and she pressed her lips to the cold metal of his ring.  
  
"You may rise."  
  
Salindra did so, gracefully and expertly showing herself off to full advantage. Lord Rahl would be sure to see her slender, elegant neck, her shapely figure, the wicked curve of her coy smile, just as she admired the blackness of his hair, the set of his shoulders, the striking black slashes of his facial hair and the piercing blue of his eyes.  
  
She suppressed a shiver.  
  
"Come," Lord Rahl barked, and Salindra was surprised to realize he was speaking to the first man. With Lord Rahl in the room, this small, cringing man, this Walter, had faded into the background as surely as if he were a mouse in the shadow of a hawk.  
  
Walter stepped forward now, trying to emulate the confidence that Lord Rahl wore effortlessly like a cloak.  
  
He fell far short.  
  
"Walter," Lord Rahl said, and this time there was scorn in his voice, "is, as you may have guessed, my body double. Useful for certain... political situations. But then only if he is convincing."  
  
Darken Rahl ran his hand along Walter's jaw, and Walter flinched, and then slowly, cautiously leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed.  
  
It reminded Salindra of some of the whores with abusive masters.  
  
"Walter is nervous around beautiful women. Aren't you Walter?" Lord Rahl asked softly, circling him slowly, the red trains of their robes intermingling. He stroked Walter's mustache lightly with one finger, before lowering his hand to run his thumbnail along Walter's lips.  
  
"Y-yes, my lord," Walter answered, the first time Salindra had heard him speak. He sounded nothing like a lord.  
  
"And we must change that, mustn't we Walter?" Darken Rahl continued, standing so close that for a dizzying moment Salindra thought he was going to kiss his double.  
  
She felt the first stirrings of lust low in her belly.  
  
"Yes, my lord," Walter answered faintly, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Salindra wondered if he too was thinking about what would happen if Darken Rahl kissed him.  
  
Then she wondered if it had happened before.  
  
"You," Darken turned, and Salindra bowed her head deferentially. "You shall aid in Walter's... education."  
  
"Whatever you wish of me, my lord." Salindra put a wealth of sensual promise into her voice.  
  
Walter flushed again.  
  
Before Lord Rahl had even finished frowning, Salindra stepped forward, gambling that Lord Rahl would be more impressed with a concubine who could handle herself and those around her than one who would wait for direction. She placed herself neatly in the small space between Walter and Lord Rahl, the back of her skirts not quite brushing the front of Lord Rahl's robes and her breasts grazing Walter's chest.  
  
Walter took a step back.  
  
"Walter -" Lord Rahl began.  
  
Salindra turned, twining her arms about his shoulders, playing with the fine hairs at the base of his neck, silently marveling at how soft the lord's hair was. "My lord, perhaps some gentleness," she dared to interrupt him, softening the insult with a kiss to his neck, molding her body to his.  
  
Lord Rahl lightly trailed one hand up her back, though he never took his eyes from Walter. "It is gentleness that has brought you here," he told her. "Kindness that it is you, not a Mord'Sith that will teach Walter." For a moment, Lord Rahl looked haunted.  
  
"My lord is very kind," Walter mumbled, an odd expression crossing his face.  
  
"I beg my lord's indulgence for but a few moments," Salindra continued, casually squaring her hips with Lord Rahl's and fighting to suppress a triumphant grin when it became apparent her proximity had affected him. He considered for a moment, and then nodded in a curt, sharp movement, and Salindra turned once more to Walter, her future unfolding before her.  
  
The poor lamb. He looked the part of the wolf, but there were no teeth in his bite, only gums, as her grandfather used to say. Walter was like the young lordlings brought to the Night House to 'wet their wicks' as their noble fathers put it. Just as skittish, and hopefully just as eager to learn.  
  
"I'm Salindra," she said, smiling her village girl smile, approaching Walter once more. She would save the smoldering looks and knowing smirks for Lord Rahl. Walter required a lighter touch. He returned her smile, and Salindra knew she was proceeding rightly.  
  
She held out both her hands, and Walter took them. "I won't bite," she winked, finding the way he blushed adorable.  
  
But Lord Rahl would not blush.  
  
Looking at Lord Rahl out of the corner of her eye, to judge his patience, Salindra stood on tiptoe, whispering huskily in Walter's ear of all the things she could do, all the things she would do, all the things Lord Rahl would want. He began to flush once more, but Salindra did not allow him to back away. She twined herself around him as she had with Lord Rahl, pleased to find she had elicited the same reaction, though Walter was far less stoic about it.  
  
Salindra glanced at Lord Rahl. He was watching them with quiet interest, a certain spark in his eyes. It occurred to her then that, in a way, he was watching himself with her.  
  
Seized with a sudden inspiration, she drew Walter into a deep kiss, moaning into his mouth. He froze, and she guided his hands, pulling them to her waist as she squirmed closer. She could feel a hot, hard bulge beneath his robes, and the nervous tension that emanated throughout his form. Salindra suckled his lip, guided one hand to her breast, helping him to slide his fingers past the square neckline of her gown to press against the flesh beneath. His fingertips clumsily grazed her nipple and she sighed her pleasure, arching against him.  
  
Walter looked not at her, but at Lord Rahl for his approval.  
  
Salindra fought back her irritation that any man should be able to concentrate on anything but her when pressed body to body, her breast in his hot hand. What was more important was pleasing Lord Rahl. “Do not look for approval,” she told Walter huskily, then turned her head to gauge Lord Rahl’s reaction herself. “Lord Rahl needs approval from no man. He is the master of all, the master of the land, of the woman in his arms.”  
  
“Yes,” Darken Rahl breathed, and suddenly he was behind Salindra, his bare arms caging her as he gripped Walter’s shoulders, squeezing Salindra tightly between them.  
  
She hadn’t seen him remove his overrobe, but she certainly noticed now. His muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin. He smelled like sword oil and cedar. The brothel herb woman used cedar to purify the whores that got ill, and banish nightmares.  
  
Salindra wondered why Darken Rahl smelled of cedar as she leaned back into his chest, inhaling more of the scent. Walter smelled like soap. Clean, and pleasant, but it was something someone who was close to Lord Rahl would notice. “You smell different,” Salindra tilted her head back, breathing her words into the edge of Lord Rahl’s jaw.  
  
Lord Rahl met her lips with his, plundering her mouth, his hard length shoved into her back. He pulled Walter tighter against her front, and Salindra moaned at the feel of being pressed between their bodies.  
  
“Like this,” he growled to Walter, scraping his teeth down the side of Salindra’s neck.  
  
Walter watched, and Salindra loved the feel of his eyes on her, his hand still awkwardly jammed into her bodice as Lord Rahl left love marks on her neck. “My lord likes biting,” she purred, at her most seductive. “But does he like being bitten?”  
  
And then she leaned forward and ran her teeth along Walter’s collar bone, where his brocade vest exposed his chest. Walter made a small “Oooh” sound, his hips jerking forward against Salindra’s. Darken Rahl thrust into her back, his eyes locked on Walter’s face.  
  
And then he stepped away, lips parted, breath coming heavier than before. He stripped off his vest, exposing the smooth planes of his chest. Dropping the vest to the floor, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hooded eyes fixed on them.  
  
“Return her bite. She cannot be allowed to mark you without retribution. You are Lord Rahl. She is yours, not the other way around,” Lord Rahl’s words twined sinuously around Salindra’s ears.  
  
She could see Walter’s pupils dilate with want, and then he swallowed and licked his lips before lowering his face to Salindra’s neck and running tongue and teeth over the marks Lord Rahl had already left. He traced them with his tongue, trailed kisses over them sweetly, gingerly, almost as if he was apologizing for the brutality wrought to her flesh.  
  
“Use your knife,” Lord Rahl commanded, and for a moment all the blood drained from Walter’s face. “I shall use it instead, my lord,” Salindra said, thinking quickly and pulling the dagger Walter carried from his belt. Before either man could stop her, she slashed open the ties of Walter’s robes and vest, making quick work of all the layers of red fabric hiding him away. “Magnificent,” she breathed, treating Walter as if he were the true Lord Rahl.  
  
Walter started to cross his arms, then stopped, perhaps realizing that Darken Rahl would never try to hide his nudity, or the erection standing firmly out from his body. But he could not bring himself to meet Salindra’s eyes.  
  
Salindra pulled at her bodice strings, her dress designed to be removed quickly and with ease. Men didn’t want their concubines to fumble with their clothes. She turned it into a strip tease, posing and touching herself for Lord Rahl and Walter. When she next looked at Lord Rahl, he was completely nude, hands casually moving over the throbbing shaft of his erection as he watched. The sight was enough to raise the blood of any woman, and Salindra was no different.  
  
She returned to Walter, an ache awakened inside her that she wanted to quench. Walter kissed her, and fondled her, his cock hot between her thighs, though not yet inside her. She could feel herself growing slick at his tender ministrations. Walter was different from most of the men that found their way into Salindra’s bed. They all wanted sex, her body.  
  
Walter’s little touches said he wanted her forgiveness, her permission, her affection. The delicate crush of his lips on hers said that he wanted love, a spiritual connection, that he was a man that wanted a family, a wife, children, a garden with flowers.  
  
Salindra dismissed the idle fancy. It would only distract her from her freedom and the means to achieve it. Pipe dreams of a husband and a rose garden were folly for a girl like her, no matter that this man made her feel like more than a means to an end.  
  
“Not like that,” Darken Rahl called, a catch in his voice. Surprised, Salindra looked at him.  
  
His eyes were overly bright, shining in the light of the waning moon.  
  
“I will show you,” Lord Rahl continued harshly. Salindra blinked, and he was beside her, ripping her away from Walter.  
  
His grip on her arms hurt, and made her burn with want. He kissed her so hard that she thought her lips may bruise, and the added edge of pain sent a rush of warmth straight to her core. And then Darken Rahl, mad with some emotion she couldn’t discern, flung her away, instead taking Walter into his wild embrace.  
  
“This is the way the Lord Rahl –” Darken Rahl did not finish the sentence, instead cupping Walter’s face in his hands and taking his lips in a brutal kiss. Salindra watched, sliding a hand between her legs to caress her folds. She could see the way Darken Rahl’s back and buttocks clenched with passion, the way their cocks were pushed up and together between their bodies. Walter moaned high and surprised, his eyes going wide before he recovered and wrapped his arms around Lord Rahl. Darken Rahl visibly shuddered into Walter’s embrace, his curtain of dark hair hiding his face from Salindra’s view.  
  
She suddenly felt like a voyeur. She was one of course, all concubines were to some extent, but it was the first time in a very long time that she had felt like one.  
  
Just as suddenly as he had gone to Walter, Darken Rahl stepped away, out of Walter’s arms, pushing his hair back with one hand. He gestured to at Salindra, two fingers and thumb extended. “Fuck her,” was all he said before going to brace his hands on the dressing table across the room, his back to them.  
  
“Fuck her,” he said again in a whisper, his voice impossibly carrying in the stillness.  
  
After watching the men, Salindra was more than ready. She moved to the bed, leaning back on her elbows and opening her legs to Walter. Walter stared at Darken’s back, then looked at Salindra.  
  
She quirked her eyebrows.  
  
The corners of Walter’s lips twitched, and he approached her, settling himself between her legs.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered into her breasts.  
  
“You won’t,” she reassured him, and pulled him down on top of her.  
  
There was a moment of resistance, and then a sudden rush and he was inside her. Salindra groaned low in her throat and pushed her hips up to meet Walter’s, looking for the angle that would stroke the sweet spot inside of her.  
  
They settled into a slow rhythm that fed Salindra’s arousal at a steady burn. Over Walter’s back she could see Darken Rahl, his hands clenched at his sides though his erection still begged for touch. In that moment he inexplicably seemed very sad to Salindra, though his expression was the same as it had ever been.  
  
Selecting one of the many jars covering the dressing table, Lord Rahl approached, padding on bare feet. He touched Walter’s back, low, close to his buttocks. Walter jerked, making Salindra gasp as he thrust particularly deep. Darken Rahl opened the jar, tossing the lid onto the vast expanse of the bed and dipping his fingers inside. Salindra could smell herbs she didn’t recognize. When Lord Rahl lifted his fingers, they glistened in the firelight.  
  
“You still don’t understand,” was all he said, and Salindra wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to Walter.  
  
He trailed his fingers down Walter’s back. Walter squirmed a little at the sensation. Salindra could feel him twitching inside her. And then Salindra couldn’t see Lord Rahl’s hand anymore, and Walter squeaked in shock. Guessing what Lord Rahl was doing, she kissed Walter, murmuring against his lips, “Just relax. Relax, relax , relax…”  
  
Slowly Salindra felt the tension drain from Walter’s muscles. “Good,” she whispered to him, kissing him again. He returned the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, as if it were some lifeline keeping him grounded.  
  
“Do not be afraid, my Walter,” Darken said, looking into Salindra’s eyes.  
  
There was something about his expression that pleaded, though for what, Salindra didn’t know.  
  
“Don’t be afraid, Walter,” Salindra echoed. “It is a natural thing. Something of great enjoyment. Lord Rahl honors you.”  
  
Walter nodded, then said, “My lord?”  
  
“Walter?”  
  
“Y-you are kind, my lord.”  
  
Darken Rahl closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. Salindra thought perhaps a tear made its way down his cheek, but in the flickering firelight she would never be sure.  
  
With that, Lord Rahl placed himself at Walter’s entrance, and then slowly pushed in, teasing, his demeanor brightening as he took charge of their rhythm, pounding into Walter who in turn thrust into Salindra.  
  
Where Walter had been slow and tender, Lord Rahl was hard, decisive, an act that was all about gratification and dominance. Salindra had never been aroused in quite this way, seeing Lord Rahl move behind Walter, his hair tossed about his face as muscles played in his chest and abs. And then there was Walter, hot and hard inside her, the peaks of her breasts gracing his chest, the ends of his hair tickling over her skin. She spread her legs wider and thrust her hips up, wanting more, needing it. She was so close, if only Walter would strike her sweet spot again. So bestial had the act become, that Salindra was no longer thinking of the rules of this most dangerous game, but was a creature of sweat and desire, bucking and moaning and demanding, legs as far apart as she could get them to take Walter’s cock in deeper, harder.  
  
If Salindra had been thinking straight, she would have been unsurprised that it was Walter who came undone first, beset as he was from both sides. He spasmed and stiffened, uttering a guttural cry, mumbling nonsense syllables as Lord Rahl continued to thrust into him, harder and faster than he had before, urged on to his own orgasm by the man below him. He bent low over Walter’s back, changing the angle of his final thrusts, and Salindra caught the scent of cedar rolling off his skin. Something about that smell, and the way Walter’s hips rolled against hers sent her over the edge, and with a gasped “Lord Rahl!” she jerked beneath Walter, who slipped from her as her inner muscles clenched.  
  
Grabbing at Walter’s hand, Salindra thrust it between her legs, using his fingers to put pressure on her clit, shuddering from the intensity of the feeling. Jerkily, she moved against his hand, riding the wave of her orgasm.  
  
Eventually, they moved to lie side by side on the bed, one of them on either side of Lord Rahl. Salindra tucked herself into his side and fussed over him, though not overly so, pushing his hair behind his ear and brushing idle kisses against his skin. Lord Rahl, her intuition told her, more than anything else just wanted to feel loved. But he also felt he didn’t deserve it.  
  
She had seen it too many times in the men that visited the Night House.  
  
Salindra would love him. He would give her freedom and she would give him the love he craved. It was a fair trade.  
  
“Now you understand,” Darken Rahl said.  
  
“Yes,” Walter answered, and he sounded a little more sure, a little less hesitant than he had before.  
  
Salindra didn’t think they were just talking about the sex.  
  
Lord Rahl placed his fingertips at Salindra’s lips. She opened her mouth, allowing them in.  
  
“Bite,” he instructed.  
  
She did.  
  
“Draw blood,” he clarified.  
  
Refusing to recoil, Salindra obeyed.  
  
Darken Rahl turned on his side to face Salindra, and after a moment she could see Walter move up behind him to watch what their lord was doing.  
  
He rubbed his blood over Salindra’s lips, “Do not speak of what has happened this night.” He dabbed his wounded fingertip lightly over each of her eyelids. “Do not tell of what you’ve seen. I bind you.” He pressed his bloodied fingers to her chest, between her naked breasts. “I bind you.” He anointed her brow. “Three times do I bind you. Break this bond, and die as the blood boils in your veins. So mote it be.”  
  
Salindra could feel a tingle of magic, like a breath of air, across her skin. She licked her lips.  
  
The blood was gone.  
  
“Now sleep,” Lord Rahl said in a tone that brooked no argument. “For tomorrow we leave for the People’s Palace.”  
  
“We, my lord?” Salindra asked.  
  
“Yes. You will be coming with us.”  
  
He did not elaborate, and Salindra did not ask him to.  
  
Settling to sleep, sharing a bed with the most dangerous man in all the land and his twin who could not so much as harm a rabbit to make himself stew, Salindra dreamed the dreams of the triumphant.  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
Thank you for reading! Feel free to review. I think I may write a Part II and possibly a Part III for this. It depends on how well it does.


End file.
